Everything Feels Like A Copy Of A Copy Of A…

I read Fight Club in ’97, if I remember right. Back when it was still edgy and cool, but before the movie and before everybody started making stupid quotes about the book and thought they were hot for being able to quote the Fight Club Rules.

(I can still remember them. Damn the author for creating something easy to remember.)

Anyways, there’s this moment where he describes insomnia and the mental state you’re in. Everything in your life, to the insomniac, seems like it’s your life. But, it’s like your life has been taken through a copier, a copy made, then the copy is put on top of the copy tray, a copy made, the copy is put on top of the copy tray, a copy made…

In short, it all starts to get blurry.

Surreal.

Disconnected.

And, that describes my last week in a lot of ways. First time I was back in actual, physical classes and what should be campus full of students is empty by any standards. I have to ride the bus there and back, and I do not miss at all being on the bus system, both of them. And, work.

Here’s the odd thing-I’m either doing exceptionally well at my internship, things are going great. Or I’m being set up to be the scapegoat for something to go terribly wrong. And, it says something about my previous employers that I am not sure which is more likely.

My writing has been going a little sideways. Because when I come home, I’m frazzled. Do I bring my laptop with me, because I have one teacher that is strictly no-electronics and the other requires you to have your laptop? But, if I carry it around, that’s additional weight I need to think about when I walk across campus for my classes, then up four flights of stairs (in groups of two) to get to my classes. I could take the elevator, but I have this opportunity to climb four flights of stairs two days a week, so I will make the most of it. I have to physically restrain myself from engaging in massive loads of snark. Sharing my unguarded and far too honest opinion.

I’m counting the days to the end of class. I have a countdown sheet. I cross the numbers off every day, like I’m counting days before I’m let out of prison.

But, I’ve also put in my paperwork for my graduation. I just have to make it through the next twelve or so weeks, enjoy the hell out of Spring Break (which I will probably do by working full-time at my internship so I can chew as much of that time away ASAP), and…finish something that I’m writing. Somehow.

(I hate authors that start out with good ideas and ghost on you, never publishing again. I don’t want to be one of those authors.)

Time to enjoy this weekend, by hook or by crook.

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